Walking Tall Across The Universe
by Dethklok
Summary: This story was playing with some ideas I had....is currently discontinued.
1. Escape

**_This story begins during Battlestar Galactica's third season, with one of my favorite episodes, "Exodus, Pt. 2." Much of the Colonial's dialogue in this chapter is directly from that episode._**

**_In high orbit over New Caprica..._**

The sky was on fire.

Space rang with the hammer blows of multiple anti-ship missile explosions impacting on the beaten hull of the Battlestar _Galactica_, which was feverishly defending itself against the might of four Cylon basestars. The vacuum was filled with flak from _Galactica_'s point-defense cannons. Several hundred fighters had already been destroyed, but time and numbers were mounting against the Battlestar.

Several minutes ago, the tide seemed to be turning, and Adama had a slim hope that they just might win this. The intra-atmosphere jump had been incredibly risky. When it had been proposed at the battle strategy sessions several weeks ago, he had almost immediately shot the idea down. The dangers involved...if it could even be done, given that the escape from New Caprica would already be a hi-intensity battle situation, were enourmous. The jump had to be presise, and then everyone had to be on point and get the FTLs spinning in time to avoid crashing and burning on the planet's surface below.

This went against everything he or any other officer had been taught about combat Jumps, but eventually Adama saw it something so out of the box, that it just might work. Besides, perhaps it was high time to throw away the old book and write a new one. Against all odds, somehow their stunt had worked. The introduction of the Vipers had thrown the Cylons off their game enough to give the colonists the chance to get to their ships and escape.

The _Galactica_'s DRADIS system montored multiple planetary jumps to the specified coordinates to meet up with the remaining civilian fleet. The _Galactica_ had reappeared in high orbit over New Caprica, about one and a half A.U.s from the nebula.

"Cylon raiders are still scattered to hell and gone," Helo said, checking the DRADIS. "They're coming after us without fighter cover. If we can draw the two basestars away from the planet, the colonists might be able to escape."

The tactical officer turned towards the Admiral. "Hang on," he turned to face the Admiral. "Two more baseships just jumped into orbit. We got four baseships out there, Admiral."

"No," Adama said, a sinking feeling entering his stomach. "We can't hold off four."

* * *

The Command Center was nestled in the center of_ Galactica_'s superstructure, and was the most heavily armored area of the ship. But even so, everyone present could feel the impact of every missile and anti-capital ship weapon. Monitors sparked and fizzled, coming in and out of focus. 

Adama gestured towards a tech who was busy repairing a power line. "Pass up the cord!" he barked, handing the power lead to another nearby tech. "Connect the other side right away!"

"We've lost maneuvering thrusters.' his tactical officer warned him. He was on the line with Engineering, which was always chaotic in a battle situation.

Helo apprised Adama of the situation. "We can't take any more hits to port or we're looking at explosive decompression, sections thirty-six through forty-eight."

Options...options. "Jump drives?!" It was half a question, half an order.

Helo shook his head. Not in their lifetime, which was looking extremely short.

Another nuke shook Galactica to the core. Adama was knocked onto his back, and struggled to regain his footing. His left arm felt slightly numb, and he had trouble breathing. Slowly, he was able to steady himself.

"Then that's it."

The command center was deathly quiet. The Admiral, the legendary Adama, admitting defeat? It truly was the end. Hull armor breached in a half-dozen places...the Cylons were attempting to jam the DRADIS, causing the system to fuzz out sporadically...Jump drives off-line.

Admiral Adama adjusted his glasses and looked at his crew.

"It's been an honor."

Adama and everyone else braced themselves. A few more explosions, a few more missile strikes, and the ship would go up, lost in the void. The Battlestar _Galactica_ would be no more.

* * *

The rain of missiles suddenly diminished, and DRADIS reported one Cylon baseship destroyed. 

_"Galactica. Pegasus. Let us take some of this work off your hands. Get your FTL up and ready, and we'll take care of the rest." _Adama could hear his son shouting orders._ "Alright, fire up that main battery!"_ Admiral Adama heard a tinny _"Roger that sir!"_ from the Pegasus end before the connection was broken.

Adama looked at the DRADIS. The Cylons were already reforming, and moving on Pegasus.

"Damn you, Lee..." he glanced at a tech working frantically. "Keep working on that FTL! Get them online. Cylons will redeploy as soon as they recover." DRADIS showed Pegasus moving to engage the hostiles.

"Thank you, Lee."

* * *

Alarm klaxons rang loudly in Lee Adama's ears. This was it. 

At the head of half a million tonnes of metal, fighting in the void, with life and death on a razor's edge.

He supposed this was how his father felt. Commanding a Battlestar truly was different from zipping through combat in a Viper.

He looked at Dee, his XO. But she was infinitely more than that to him. Her cool eyes assessed the situation.

"They're coming about. Maneuvering to bracket us." she was able to keep her voice even, although they were facing three Cylon baseships, with DRADIS telling them that more, at least six more, were on the way to engage them.

"Steady as she goes." Lee ordered. "Take us right into the center." Head for the heart of the enemy formation, try and do as much damage as possible. Kill the beast.

"Won't last long in there." Dee stated, looking him right in the eyes. In all probability, they would lose the ship. But they would go down fighting.

"No." was all that needed to be said, as the command center rang with another missile impact.

* * *

DRADIS showed _Pegasus_ engaged with the three basestars in their immediate combat zone, but at the periphery of the sensors, they showed another six Cylon basestars moving fast out of the nebula to engage them. That would up the enemy force to nine, and no Battlestar had ever taken on nine basestars and come out in one piece. 

Communications with _Galactica_'s Vipers were affirmative. All ships had lifted off and had jumped away to the specified coordinates. now they had to get away.

"Get our birds home!" Adama yelled at the officer in charge of command coordination of the fighter squadrons. "Let's get the hell out of here..."

The techs had gotten the FTL back up and running. Collect their fighters, and New Caprica could become a very bad memory.

DRADIS reported the Viper planetary attack force had made it's way back onboard _Galactica_. The Admiral had authorized combat landings, and every pilot was racing to get back home.

* * *

"Dee." Lee said. "Status of the incoming Cylon baseships?" 

Six more baseships, filled with missiles and nukes and fighters. Pegasus had already taken a significant beating from three. Six more would be impossible to stand against.

Suddenly DRADIS reported a massive energy spike, several A.U.s out, beyond the nebula, barely readable. There were a total of six energy spikes.

Seconds later, DRADIS confirmed the destruction of six enemy basestars. One minute they were there, the next they were wiped out.

Erased.

"What the hell just happened...?" Lee said. This late in the game, the situation turning around for them...it was nothing short of a miracle.

An officer ran up and handed Dee a readout. she scanned it, confusion crossing her face.

"Optics report there were six flashes, consistent with the high energy readings we recieved. The basestars were all hit at their midpoints, at their weakest point, and destroyed. All of them were destroyed. They didn't have time to launch fighters or jump away. They're just...gone."

Lee swallowed. "Looks like we have guardian angels, or the gods, or something. But we're not out of the woods yet. The remaining basestars have released all of their fighters after us. _Galactica_ is contacting us."

Admiral Adama's voice sounded over the communications line. _"Six basestars, gone. What happened?"_

"Optics reported six flashes of light coming from inside the nebula right before the basestars were destroyed. Where they came from, we don't know. We still have the remaining three to deal with, and they're cutting loose with everything they've got. We will have to abandon ship."

It was several seconds before Adama responded. _"I understand. See you at the coordinates."_

He cut the line. A minute later, Dee said "The _Galactica_ has jumped. The Cylons are closing in on us."

"Set main batteries to auto-fire cycle B! Lock engines ahead flank!"

Officers rushed to their final orders. With a heavy heart, Lee activated the ship intercom.

_"This is the Commander. Abandon ship. Abandon ship. All hands abandon ship. Report to evac Raptors and jump to rendevous point. Good work, and I'll see you on the other side."_

Dee sprang into action. "Alright, people! Let's move! Out! Let's go!"

Everyone ran towards the hangars. At the exit, Dee looked back at Lee. "You too, Commander."

"Yes, sir." Lee said, a strange sound in his voice.

Dee began running. Lee moved towards the exit, looking for the last time at his burning ship.

"Thank you." he said, before dashing towards the Raptor bay.

* * *

The final flight of the _Pegasus_ was short, but memorable. 

The battlestar was burning from a hundred different places, mortally wounded. main power was nearly gone, and what was left was diverted to the weapons and sublight engines.

_Pegasus_ kept fighting and moving foward, up until the end. The port hangar bay was open, and four Raptors shot out.

In the midst of the bedlam of battle and speeding metal, one small metallic object no larger than a dinner plate, but speeding at a quarter of lightspeed, shot towards the last Raptor in the escaping group. Seconds before it's FTL drive shot it completely out of reach, the object magnetically attached itself to the hull of the ship, and actiivated, emitting a small, but distinct electromagnetic signature.

The _Pegasus_, now unmanned, ponderously moved foward, inertia and engines launching it at it's enemy, a Cylon baseship that was only now reacting to a half million tonnes of battlestar speeding towards it, guns blazing.

The impact was at first negligible, but nanoseconds later, the Cylon baseship's superstructure crumpled like glass, smashed by a hammer called _Pegasus_.

The battlestar seemed to slighly implode, bulging at the seams, before the ship's running lights suddenly switched off, the main engines now vaporized. The remaining energy gathered and _Pegasus_ exploded, a flower of burning metal in space.

It's port hangar deck was surprisingly intact, and sped towards another close-by Cylon baseship that did not jump away in time. The third basestar was smashed to pieces and broke up, it's main engines exploding with terrific force.

The only independently moving objects left were Cylon raiders, now with only one heavily damaged basestar left, and all of it's hangar decks sheared off by debris.

* * *

**_Bridge of unknown ship..._**

A bridge officer consulted the active scanning array. "The Colonial Fleet has left this system, Mistress. We are recieving a faint EM pulse from the tracker, almost 40 light years from here."

"Thank you." the woman said. She steepled her fingers, deep in thought. She sat in the Captain's chair at the center of the bridge, the focus of the energy and attention in the room. The Captain assumed a position at her right, standing tall and making sure bridge operations ran smoothly. The woman was flanked on her left by her bodyguard, a humorless, unsmiling man in his mid-thirties. It amused her at points in time that he could be so cool and composed, even in the face of historical events, such as this.

She snapped her fingers, bringing bridge security to attention. "Bring her." she said.

Seconds later, the two large and heavily armed and armored men returned from the outside corridor, restraining between them a woman in a skintight black prisoner's uniform. Her hair was matted and dirty. She was soot and grease stained, and her eyes were bloodshot. She had difficulty focusing on anything in her vision. She also stunk.

The woman stepped ot of the Captain's chair and approached the prisoner, snapping her fingers to get her attention. The woman slowly became alert, as if waking from a dream.

"You should be commended," the woman siad in a conversational tone of voice. "Your information was accurate. Six Cylon basestars were destroyed, and the Colonials escaped. Your 'New Caprica' experiment has been terminated."

The prisoner began weeping, almost uncontrollably. "I'm a traitor," she sobbed. "Thousands of us, gone. Destroyed. The others will know, by now. If you send me back, they'll kill me."

The woman smiled wryly. "I'm sure they will. No, I will make arrangements for you. You will be placed in a solitary cell and be fed better things than protein bars. You will also have access to sanitary facilities so you can wash."

"What of the probing?" the prisoner asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

"There will be no more probing for you," the woman said. The mixture of cowed gratitude, awe, and dumb loyalty in the prisoner's eyes disgusted her. It reminded her of a beaten dog, desperate for scraps of favor from the master, or mistress, in her case.

"Now leave my sight." the woman dismissed the prisoner, who was escorted to her new cell, walking as if she had no will of her own.

She turned back to face the bridge crew, and the Captain and her bodyguard. They both stepped foward.

"You appear to have broken the Number Eight, mistress. Congratulations." the Captain nodded his head.

"I am less optimistic," her bodyguard said. He had served her for several years, and had been her father's right hand. His advice was beyond valuable. "She is still a Cylon, and will turn on us if we are not mindful of her."

"I agree." she said. "I want her cell shielded. No transmissions of any kind should be allowed to escape. Let her know that if she kills herself, she will not return to friendly ports. There will be no resurrection."

"Yes, mistress." they both said in unison.

"Now, let us move on to our future battle plans. They will be undoubtedly be massing a fleet to further pursue the Colonials and to search for further archaelogical sites. I want to track Cylon ship movements, and engage them the next time they intercept the Colonials."

"The _next_ time?" her bodyguard said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I plan to make contact with the Colonials. It is high time I meet Adama, 'the legend', the destroyer whom they fear so much. Make preparations for hyperspatial transition." she commanded.

"By your will," the Captain rushed to prepare the ship to leave this system, as the woman and her guard left the bridge. Seconds later, space went white as the hidden battleship dissappeared into the ether.


	2. Avenging Angels

**_To Oblivion: Regarding the first chapter of this story sharing a similarity to a Battlestar Galactica/Warhammer 40,000 crossover story, it does. I wrote that particular story several months ago, but eventually it didn't work for me, and didn't go anywhere, so I used the content from THAT story for this story and deleted the first one. There was no plagarism or anything underhanded, if that's what you thought._**

**_Also, I will work on whatever spelling errors that arise. God, I HATE spelling errors..._**

* * *

"Are you telling me that there is no way to dislodge the device from the fuselage?" 

Adama looked at the officers assembled in his office, slash quarters. Lieutenant Gaeta was present, as was Chief Tyrol. Both had taken back their respective military positions in the last few days after escaping New Caprica. But Adama's XO, Saul Tigh remained on inactive duty, due to medical reasons fom his torture and imprisonment on New Caprica and the loss of his wife. Helo had taken his place, for the time being.

"Analysis shows that the device is affixed to the Raptor's hull, magnetically. The device seems to have a power source that produces a fixed magnetic field. The device is almost a _part_ of the hull. It is also emitting a distinct electromagnetic frequency. This...tracking device is like nothing we've ever seen before." Chief Tyrol reported.

Admiral Adama looked to his right. Laura Roslin was seated, reading a copy of their analysis of the device, which had been discovered two days ago, affixed to one of the Raptors that had come from _Pegasus_, before it was destroyed. The Fleet was currently in a holding position, and hiding in orbit of a planet that had a strong level of electromagnetic noise. It was hoped that this static would disrupt the emissions of the tracking device. Leaving the Raptor was not an option, as resources were low, and throwing away a good ship because it had a tail on it was not an option.

"Is this device Cylon in origin? A way to track and monitor us?" she asked.

"No, Madam President." Gaeta said. "Spectrographic analysis of the metal the device is composed of _does not_ correspond to any known Cylon materials. The metal is quite durable. A plasma torch had no effect. The metal was not even heated. Using a electromagnetic stripper of our own had no effect. The device simply changed electromagnetic frequencies each time we tried to depolarize it."

"Admiral, could this in any way be connected with the mysterious destruction of the six Cylon baseships Commander Adama reported during the battle?"

"At this point, anything's possible." Adama took off and wiped his glasses. "Lee reported high-energy discharges coming from the nebula. It's highly unlikely those were natural events. But we still don't have enough to go on."

"Thank you, gentlemen." President Roslin said. Tyrol and Gaeta departed. "Well, Admiral, what do you think?"

Adama poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Laura. "I don't know what to think. An unknown device, not Cylon, tracking us. Six enemy ships, mysteriously destroyed. Whatever this is, we have to keep our eyes open."

Suddenly, alarms flashed and rang, summoning the crew to action stations. Adama looked up, his mind shifting, becoming sharper, and tactical. He stood up and made his way to the Command Center, followed by President Roslin.

* * *

"We count_ eighteen_ enemy baseships. Confirmed." A bridge officer announced, as Adama and President Roslin entered the Command Center. 

Eighteen. One Battlestar, dozens of defenseless ships...they would never win. "Alert all ships to make preparations to jump, immediately. Location of enemy ships?"

Helo consulted the DRADIS and looked at Adama. "They appear to be 800,000 kilometers away from us, and they are launching Raiders."

"Hold all Vipers, and prepare to jump to our secondary coordinates."

The crew rushed to follow Adama's commands. Suddenly there was a high pitched whine and all of the DRADIS displays shorted out briefly.

"What was that?"

A tech answered. "Unknown, sir. It appears to be a high-energy pulse that momentarily overloaded the DRADIS scanners."

What happened next caught everyone by surprise. Appearing on the DRADIS were four new blips. These four blips had the readouts _unidentifiable _labeled next to them. All four of these blips also buzzed and flickered on the display. The words _no lock established_ kept blinking on the screen.

"Sir," Dee reported. She also had taken up her former position as _Galactica_'s communication officer. "Optics reports four ships jumped into the line of fire between the fleet and the Cylon baseships. The largest ship is..._2 kilometers long_. Confirmed." she said, disbelief creeping into her voice.

"A com frequency is being directed at us, sir." Dee continued. "The _Galactica_, specifically. Shall I put it through?"

"By all means." Adama said.

The voice coming through was a woman's, loud and clear. Some verbal inflections and sylablle stresses were off, but she could easily be understood.

"_Attention Colonial vessels. Attention Colonial vessels. Remain in your current positions. The Cylon aggressors will be dealt with shortly_."

"_The Cylon aggressors will be dealt with shortly_?' President Roslin said, turning the words over. "How? And who are they?"

"Sir," Helo reported. Optics reports the unknown ships have launched some kind of...fighters?" he said in confusion. Suddenly, an officer ran into the Command Center and handed Helo a printed scan from Optics. He unrolled it and laid it on the tactical planning board in the center of the room.

The picture was somewhat out of focus, but plenty of details could still be seen. It was a picture of the largest ship. It took up literally the whole frame. What could be seen were hatches opening and several dozen...figures, for lack of a better word, coming out. They were all humanoid shaped, metallic, fitted with vernier thrusters, and were equipped with giant, oversized weapons.

"Giant robots?" Roslin said, not understanding.

"Admiral," Dee cut in. "I am picking up significant chatter on a lower band com channel than the one used to contact us. Shall I pipe it through the Command intercom?"

"Permission granted. Let's hear it." Adama answered.

* * *

_"This is Mission Control_." The voice of a young woman, different from the first, sounded over the speakers._ "Mobile suit squadrons 01 through 16 mobilized. Wing Zeros, target Cylon capital ships with your Buster Cannons. Heavyarms Units will be assisting. Aile Striker Units, pursue and destroy Cylon Raiders. Duel, Blitz, Justice, and Freedom Units will be running interference, covering civilian ships. The flagship will be deploying Neutron Jammers in 3...2...1...mark."_

"Sir." a tech reported. "The ambient radiation level in all directions, extending nearly half a light year, has been...diminished, somehow. It still persists, but at extremely negligible levels...?"

"What does that mean?" Roslin asked.

The same female voice came from the speakers again. _"Cylon baseships have launched all nuclear weaponry. All squadrons, evasive maneuvers."_ Several seconds later, _"Zero nuclear detonations. Repeat, zero detonations. Neutron stasis field holding. All jammers are green flagged and functional."_

"I've got it." Lieutenant Gaeta said. "Whoever they are, they have discovered a way to supress or dampen nuclear reactions, perhaps even stop them altogether. The Cylons can't use their nukes anymore. But our jump engines are also nonoperational..."

In the next few minutes, the DRADIS and an awed crew monitored one Cylon baseship after another being destroyed by these 'mobile suits' as they were called. Several Cylon ships were destroyed within seconds of each other, and the wave of Cylon Raiders were efficiently shot out of the sky. Further analysis by Optics section showed these 'mobile suits' and their home ships using some kind of energy weapons in combat, a technology far beyond the Colonial's simple railgun weapons technology.

Other, heavily damaged Cylon baseships attempted to jump away, but several dozen 'mobile suits' seemed to always appear right in the new location the Cylons jumped to on the battlefield. After ten minutes, all Cylon baseships and practically all of the Cylon Raiders were molten slag. In addition, not one Raider got through at a civilian ship, or even close.

"Eighteen baseships, and Gods knows how many Raiders, gone. In fifteen minutes...' Helo said. He gave a voice to what everyone felt.

"Transmit a message in the clear." Adama picked up the com unit and spoke "This is the Battlestar _Galactica_. We are part of a fleet that has been-"

A voice, the same one that had instructed them to remain in their positions cut through the speakers and Adama's introduction. "_I know who you are_."

A wave of confusion passed through the Command crew. "Who are you?" he said.

_"Who I are is unimportant, at the moment."_ came through the speakers. _"Which of you is Adama?" _

President Roslin and Admiral Adama looked at one another. Being called personally by name was totally unexpected. Adama continued.

"I am Admiral William Adama."

"_Admiral William Adama_..." the woman's voice said in a musing tone. "_Admiral William Adama is a name to be feared among the Cylon aggressors, as it should be_. _You have our respect._"

"A name to be feared...?" Adama continued.

"_We are aware of who you are, and your struggles.._." echoed over the com. Everyone inexplicably brightened at this. The _how_, or _why_, could be determined later. But suddenly, the future did not seem so dim.

"_I invite you and whomever you deem appropriate for a state dinner aboard my flagship. There is much to discuss. One hour_." The com channel was terminated.

Admiral Adama looked at the President. "Madam President, would you care to join me for dinner?"

* * *

**_Please review. Further chapters will explore the distant relationship between the 12 Colonies and the rediscovered 13th Tribe, and the awesome power of mobile suit technology...Coming soon._**


	3. Petra

"Gentlemen."

Laura Roslin spoke to the four Colonial Fleet members assembled in front of her. "In our time together, these past three years, I have learned to value your opinions and insights on many occasions, on a variety of sensitive matters. This is one of those times. It may in fact be the _most important_ time. You four will be our eyes and ears in this meeting. Take note of anything and everything, no matter how strange or odd. We are at a disadvantage in this. We have little to no information at all about these strangers. Do all of you understand the importance of this?"

She looked straight in the eyes of the four men assembled before her in a bustling flight deck. Chief Tyrol, Helo, Commander Lee Adama, and Lieutenant Gaeta. All wore determined looks on their faces. "Yes ma'am." sounded out from all four of them.

They stepped foward to step onto a waiting Raptor. Admiral Adama was already seated and strapped in. "Let's not disappoint, gentlemen." he said drily.

The Raptor pilot made preparations to begin takeoff procedures after all passengers were strapped in, but a word from the Admiral stopped him for a moment. He pointed to another Raptor on the flight deck. This Raptor was in fact the Raptor that had been tagged by the tracking device. Everyone on the deck stopped working for a moment, and silence prevailed, as a sharply pitched _humming _sound emanated from the device. Internal circuitry glowed a neon blue, and with a loud _POP_, the circular device dislodged from the Raptor, falling heavily to the deck with a metallic _THUNK_. The device seemed dead.

"Huh." President Roslin said. "Well, let's be on our way." The Raptor hatch closed fully, sealing the ship, and the Raptor taxied to an open launch bay.

* * *

All six passengers, and the pilot to a lesser extent, simply stared at the flagship as the Raptor drew closer. 

The hull was a crimson red color, and appeared thickly armored. Point defense cannons were placed along the superstructure of the ship as well as the belly and at every possible angle, but they appeared to be of a type unfamilar to any of them. Ports for missile launchers and other heavy munitions could be made out at points on the hull. Admiral Adama could see along the midpoint of the ship ports for heavy cruise missiles, similar to the nuclear launch silos the _Galactica_ possessed. Heavy anti-ship cannons and weapons ports were also visible. Along the ship's belly were large hatches, closed and sealed currently. Adama presumed this was from where they launched their fighters.

The Raptor's com unit beeped with an incoming transmission. The pilot put in through. "_Attention Galactica scout ship. Coordinates are being transmitted for a private hangar on the port side. Land there._" The transmission was then terminated.

Manipulating flight controls, the pilot did a hard burn to an open launch bay which stood out from the closed massive form of the flagship. The hangar doors closed and pressurized behind the Raptor. The Raptor opened and everyone unstrapped themselves and stepped out. Several seconds later a door swished open and twenty armed men stepped in, quickly filling the small hangar and taking defensive positions. They were all wearing some kind of sealed, armored suits, black. Their helmets were mirrored, their faces hidden. One man stepped foward. his armor was trimmed in red, signiflying some kind of leadership position. What everyone noticed was that all of these soldiers towered over the Colonials. They all stood about a foot taller than Helo, who was considered quite big by Colonial standards.

His voice was muffled, and altered. It sounded deep and metallic. Perfect for intimidation.

"_You will be barred from seeing the Autarch unless you submit to a scan._" he said.

President Roslin stepped foward. "Please go ahead."

Large black weapons with laser sights were trained on each of them as the leader produced a metallic, wedge shaped device from a pouch on his belt. He tapped a control on a panel on his armored gauntlet, and the small device lit up and began _humming_. The man then let it go. It began floating and continued to hum. It slowly drew foward toward the Colonials, floating lazily around each of them. A small waldo with a camera lens on the end snaked out of the drone's body. The lens glowed a bright neon blue, and a blue light came out. The waldo then played over eack of them, head to toe. The drone then turned it's nose back towards the lead soldier and _beeped_. A corresponding _beep_ issued from the panel on his gauntlet.

"_You are clean_." he said. "_But remain where you are_." he ordered.

The drone began moving again, the first waldo retracting and a second one emerging. At the end of this one was a small needle. Quickly and efficiently, the drone floated by each of them, the waldo pricking everyone in the neck and _hissing_. It's work then finished, the waldo retracted and the drone flew back towards the soldier's hand, and he stowed it back into his pouch.

"What was that for?" Roslin asked, rubbing her neck.

"_You are not immunized against any pathogens or diseases we may carry. You are now protected. Your pilot will stay here. Come with us_." the lead soldier commanded.

* * *

The Colonials followed the soldiers out of the hangar. Ten of the soldiers detached and went down an adjacent corridor, disappearing around a corner. The other ten soldiers led them to a lift. One tapped a wall control and an elevator came, large enough to hold over thirty people. The soldiers formed a ring around the Colonials, who stood in the center of the elevator. 

The ride seemed interminable, the lift _humming _as it passed several decks. After several minutes, the lift stopped and the doors opened.

The room the lift opened to was dark, the only light was what appeared to be a wall-sized screen showing a starfield. There was rapid movement, as several dozen Cylon Raiders burst into view. Suddenly data and targeting graphics appeared on the screen. A large metallic hand came into the lower frame, wielding a massive gun of an unknown type. The view zoomed suddenly and targeting graphics were drawing a bead on a zooming Raider. Suddenly the Raider flashed, jumping away. Looking closer, Admiral Adama could see the dark silouette of a woman standing in front of the screen. The woman seemed quite large, of the same stature as the soldiers.

The lead trooper in the red trimmed armor stepped foward. "Mistress. The guests you have been expecting have-" A sharply raised hand snapped up, cutting off the trooper's words.

The female silouette turned to the side, towards the darkness. A voice, sharp, used to command, but not without a certain soft harmony, issued forth.

"Reverse." The footage reversed several frames. "Stop." The Cylon Raider that jumped away flashed back into frame.

"Energy spectrum analysis." The frozen image shifted. The black of space becoming an odd blue, punctuated by points of red, signifying stars. The Raider's image changed. The metallic silver shifting into a whitish color with a bright yellow blob in the center. Graphics representing data such as energy consumption ratios, thermal bleed-off rates, particle analysis popped up on the screen.

"Play."

The footage played again, this time scanned and analyzed. The voice spoke again. "Alert Science section and all mobie suit squadrons. Cylon Raiders shunt power from their tylium reactors in massive quantities right before a combat jump. There is a .69 microsecond burst of power, of at least 16 percent beyond regular constants. This can be scanned for, and anticipated."

The silouette turned around. "Lights." was commanded.

The formerly dark room lit up, revealing a large conference room with a massive table in the center, and evough chairs to seat at least fifty people. The room was empty, except for two people on the far end, a tall woman with rich, dark red hair, and a man in dark clothing. On the wall a screen seemed to _hang_ in the air, and the footage played. The man tapped a control on the conference table, and the image snapped off and disappeared, revealing another bukhead behind it.

"Step foward." The soldiers stepped foward as one, the Colonials in the center, watching this scene, and not knowing what to make of it.

The soldiers parted ranks, allowing the woman to step foward and look at the colonials. She seemed to be appraising them, studying all of them with a careful eye.

"You are all dismissed." she said to the soldiers. "I thank you for your service." With a sharp nod, the soldiers filed into the elevator and left, leaving the Colonials alone with this woman and the man with her, who seemed to have taken a position just to the left and slightly behind her without anyone noticing.

"I greet you," she said. "I am Petra, Autarch of the _Kuma_."


	4. The New Masters

The woman who had identified herself as the Autarch, whatever that was, she a sight to behold. Beautiful in a classical way, she commanded attention. She was tall and well formed, exuding a low-key strength. Her hair was a rich red, and had been made up into dreadlocks that were tied into a pony tail that hung long on her back. She wore a forest green bodysuit of some flexible material that was inset with formfitting armored plates. At her throat was a simple band of gold.

"I am sure you have many questions, but first, we eat. Explanations cannot come on empty stomachs." she nodded to her companion, who seemed to be her guard, and he tapped a control on the conference table, and several servers came from a concealed doorway and laid out platters of food, silverware, and cutlery. Places had been set for the seven of them. With a hand, she gestured them towards the table to sit and eat. Petra sat at the head of the table.

The servers unveiled the food, lifting covers and pouring wine.

"Meat..." Laura said. Gasped really. "None of us have seen meat in a ..."

"...really long time." Commander Adama finished. The meal appeared so simple, but it was better fare than anyone in the Fleet had eaten in several years.

"Please," Petra said. "eat to your heart's content. This is a state dinner, after all. Fill yourselves."

With that permission, everyone dug into their meals, the Colonials eating as if they would never eat again. Seconds were asked for very quickly, and three bottles of wine came and went in the space of twenty minutes.

"Such healthy appetites." Petra remarked. "That is a good sign. A..good meal is one of the few true things we can appreciate in this life."

"Thank you," Admiral Adama said. "None of us have eaten this well in several years, and we were afraid we would never eat this well ever again."

"But we have many questions." President Roslin continued.

"In a moment," Petra sipped a glass of wine. "First, introductions are in order."

"I am Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies."

"Admiral William Adama, of the Colonial Fleet, Commander of the Battlestar _Galactica_."

"Commander Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet."

"Lieutenant Felix Gaeta, Colonial Fleet."

"Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol, Colonial Fleet."

"Captain Karl Agathon, also of the Colonial Fleet."

"Now that all introductions are aside, tell me of yourselves, your history. I have some information, but I wish to hear the words from your mouths."

"Over three years ago, our Colonies, the Twelve Colonies of Kobol-"

"Kobol? This is new information. Please, tell me of Kobol."

"Kobol was our original homeworld. Several thousand years ago, we were forced to leave and make our way into space dur to a cataclysm that struck Kobol. Eventually we made our way to the worlds we called the Twelve Colonies-"

My apologies. I do not mean to interrupt. What basis in fact do you have to believe that this 'Kobol' is your original homeworld, the 'birthplace of humanity'?

"Our most ancient legends state that in ages past, Man lived on Kobol as one with the Gods, the Lords of Kobol. But eventually the Gods fought amongst themselves, due to the desire of one of the Gods to be placed above the rest. Eventually that conflict caused us to leave Kobol, and make our way in the stars."

"Lords of Kobol? Please, tell me of them." Roslin continued.

"There are primarily seven. Zeus, the king of the Gods, Hera, wife and sister to Zeus, and Queen. Ares, the God of War and conflict, Apollo, the son of Zeus and lord of the hunt. There is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and fertility, Artemis, twin sister of Apollo and mistress of the hunt, and Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom. She supposedly took her own life due to the thirteen tribes of Kobol departing for unknown territories."

"Tribes? Thirteen tribes?"

"Yes. We represent twelve of those Tribes. Aerelon, Picon, Caprica, Aquaria, Canceron, Sagittarion, Gemenon, Libris, Scorpia, Leonis, Tauron, and Virgon."

"Those are only twelve. What of the thirteenth you mentioned?'

"The thirteenth?' Laura said in confusion. "They are not with us. During our exodus, they went another way among the stars."

Petra leaned foward, intense interest in her blue eyes. "Where did they go?"

"Where did they go? They went to your homeworld, of course. They went to Earth." Tyrol said, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

For several moments, Petra did not speak. She made as if to say something several times, but each time, no words came forth. Finally she stood up and began breathing heavily. Her eyes had taken on the look of a wild animal, filled with terrible wrath. Finally, and with one rage-filled strike, she struck the conference table, her strength sufficient to shatter and crack it in two. Silverware and cutlery clattered to the deck in a heap, and computer components drom the now destroyed computer integrated into the destroyed table sparked. 

Slowly, Petra shifted upright again, standing tall. The Colonials had recoiled at the sight of her anger, and her display of strength. Her guard came to her side, and whispered into her ear. She waved him off.

"My apologies." she said, straightening her clothes. She smiled grimly. "Of course. I suspected, but how could I know? How could _you _know? How could anyone? They will _pay_ for this...deception. They will pay _dearly_." She rushed to a computer panel set into a nearby bulkhead and swiftly manipulated it. A holographic screen appeared, and slowly, images began flickering upon it. Slowly the images coaloesced into still pictures of statues and paintings and reliefs and pictures of figures of myth that were somehow familiar to the Colonials.

"Your gods, these 'Lords of Kobol', they are prominent figures in Greek mythology, an ancient culture that once existed on Earth. I should have known. Your language is a derivative of Greek and Latin. Zeus, Athena, Apollo...it all fits. This picture is too familiar, and too ugly."

"What picture? Laura said. 'If you know something, we have to know. What does this have to do with Earth?"

"I want you all to understand something." Petra said, rubbing her neck. 'What I have to tell you will change everything. It will change your society in ways I cannot predict. Most likely for the worse. Relations between us may break down completely and irrevocably on what I tell you. But I feel it is my duty, and I would do all of you, and your people a grave injustice not to tell you. Do you understand?"

"We understand." Admiral Adama said. "What is this 'truth' you have to tell us? How is it damaging?"

"First of all, let me say this. Earth is _not _the homeworld of the _Kuma_. Who we are, and what we represent, I will explain later. In fact, Earth is far, far from here, and you would be off-limits from it anyway. In fact, I have never been to Earth, and I am a head of state. No one has, not in over 600 years."

"What?" Helo broke in What has happened to Earth? Was it destroyed? What do you know about it?"

"What happened to the Earth...?" Petra mused. "Wars, conflict beyond your simple imagining, was what happened. But I will tell of this in time. These gods you speak of, these 'Lords of Kobol', you so revere, in all likelihood, they were conquerors. Destroyers."

* * *

"We knew these beings as the New Masters, although the real name of their species may never be known." Petra began. "What is known that they were thousands, perhaps millions of years older than humanity. Several thousand years ago, over time periods hundreds or thousands of years apart, humans were taken from Earth and seeded on hundreds of planets, in thousands of systems, across the galaxy, each ruled by a New Master. Common practice of these aliens were to pose as the various gods and religious icons of humanity, come to us in a familiar form. This was done to gain our obedience and gratitude." 

Shock and disbelief descended on the Colonials. The Lords of Kobol...frauds?

She continued. "These aliens never directly conquered the homeworld, Earth. It is thought they wished Earth and humanity to remain 'wild' and evolving in order to study and use us over millenia. They set many goals for their human pets. Some used experimentation of a genetic or biological level. Others required labor, slaves. And still others required soldiers. Armies of a species that could reproduce in fairly large, but manageable numbers. Many of the New Masters warred amongst themselves, and different human colonies fought against themselves on the behalf of their particular New Master. My own world was once in such a state.

"But that all changed once we learned of Earth." she said.

"Changed? How?" Adama asked.

"Approximately 1100 years ago, in what Earthers referred to as the 22nd Century, their technological development increased to levels unheard of before. In a span of 75 years, they established gigantic orbiting space colonies to combat a rampant overpopulation problem and take advantage of the resourses of the asteroid belt in their system. They developed spacecraft that allowed them fully explore and exploit their star system. But the most stunning development they made was in the area of warfare." Petra tapped a control, and video appeared on the holographic screen floating above the broken table.

The video was old, ancient, in fact. In showed a gargantuan interior, some kind of city. Adama guessed it was the inside of one of the orbiting space colonies Petra mentioned. There seemed to be a battle happening. Explosions and fire was everywhere. The shot shifted to an area filled with office blocks. Suddenly, rushing out of cover and firing a huge machine cannon at a target was one of the giant robots the Colonials had seen the Autarch's forces use, but of a different, much simpler design.

* * *

"This was the first mobile suit." she said. "It was called the..._Zaku_. It was created first by one of Earth's space colonies that wished to break away from Earth control. Thousands of them were built over the course of what was later called the 'One Year War'." The image switched, this time showing a white mobile suit with blue and red trim, and with two yellow eyes. "The ruling Earth government came up with this defense, the..._Gundam_. It had the advantage of superior technology, such as the very first energy weapon not used on a battleship. This machine, and others like it, eventually won the war for the Earth government." 

"Amazing..." President Roslin said. "But what does this have to do with you and your people? Or us?"

"There were many other inter-Colony and inter-system conflicts besides the 'One Year War'. Millions died in the spact of thirty years, as the battles became more and more bloody. The Earth itself was nearly destroyed by a colony drop."

"What is a colony drop?" Lieutenant Gaeta asked.

Petra tapped several controls, and a new video file came up. "Prepare yourselves." The hologram showed an image of a city, nestled in a jungle. It was the site of a furious battle. Anti-aircraft fire filled the sky, and explosions lit up the night. Mobile suits of various designs leapt at each other and tore each other apart. The Colonials knew war...but this was chaos, maelstrom.

"The Colony Wars had been raging for several decades, with the outer Colonies and the PLANTS against the Earth Federation. The final blow that destroyed the ruling government was a battle tactic that the lead rebel Colony, the Zeon, used. They hijacked an abandoned colony and set it for impact against the Federation's capital fortress, Jaburo..."

The video suddenly lit up as the sky above boiled a furious yellow white. Fire erupted, and a tremendous metal construct, miles long, impacted through the atmosphere, a death shriek wailing as it impacted with the Earth. There was a white flash, and a roar of sound, and teh screen went white. The image then shifted to the same area, but obviously some time later. The fallen colony was imbedded in the earth, and a crater miles wide was visible. It was filled with water from a nearby ocean. Every structure for miles around was completly decimated.

"By the Gods..." Helo murmured. Everyone else gasped in assent.

"This act was the death blow for the Earth government. Chaos and anarchy reigned. Every colony and powerful military force carved up the Earth system, trying to create their own small kingdoms. And it was at this moment that the New Masters chose to strike, sending their human slaves to fight against their brothers.

"They were afraid of their power, you see? The New Masters saw humans for the first time as a threat, and not lower animals. If we could fight like that against each other, we could fight against them, and win. And their fears came to pass."

"What happened?" Adama asked.

"Revolution. A rebellion against the New Masters, after thousands of years of slavery and service. My ancestor, the Patriarch whose bloodline I descend from, was one of its leaders. We joined with the remnants of the Earth militaries and colonies and fought against the Masters. they were technologically superior, but without their armies of human soldiers, their strength was greatly diminished. Mobile suit technology was disseminated throughout the rebel movement, and we were able to resist the New Masters. Ten long years of battle, and we won, destroying the Masters as a species. Almost the entirety of their cursed race were exterminated, and the remainder fled into the dark wastes of space.

Human society and culture changed tremendously in the decades after the war. Human expansion had suddenly increased exponentially, with hundreds of worlds that were now human controlled for the first time. We were too many to stand under one government and banner. And thus, the Clans were born."

"The Clans?" President Roslin asked.

"There are three. The _Kuma._.." A sigil appeared on the floating holographic screen of a red shape of a roaring bear. "The _Aereos_..." A symbol of a double-headed eagle in gold appeared. "The _Kestrel_..." a symbol of a blue bird descending on it's prey. "They were formed out of the human resistance movements and the remanants of the old Earth government and colonies."

"What about Earth?" Gaeta asked.

"It's ecosystem was badly damaged, and close to collapse. It has been declared off limits, unfit for human habitation for over half a millenium, and for many centuries to come. Even when the damage is repaired, it...will not be the same."

Petra stood up and walked, along with her guard, to the elevator. "Let us continue this discussion later. There is some...information I require. I feel you will all be interested in my sources. Follow me." she tapped a control, calling the elevator up. The doors slid open, and she stepped in, followed by the Colonials, followed by her guard.

The doors closed.

* * *

The lift stopped, and the doors opened. The Colonials saw what appeared to be a brig, or prison. There were several large barred cells, filled with people, about twenty in all. Many of them looked exactly alike. The lights in the cells were off, and the prisoners appeared to be sleeping. Entering a nearby command at a console, the cells suddenly lit up with white light.

"**_Wake up_**!" Petra barked. One of the prisoners, an old man, looked out at who had disturbed his tortured sleep, and who was with her.

"Oh no..." he murmured, hopelessness creeping into his voice.

"Oh yes..." she hissed, a dark light glinting in her eyes. She snapped her fingers at a nearby guard, one of many stationed in this brig. She pointed at the old man, who was dressed in prisoner's garments, all black.

"Bring him."


End file.
